"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
She’s not sure what brings her here. Curiosity, maybe. But she’d been idle too long anyway, unused to staying in one place. The Throat was warm and sticky and she felt like she carried sand with her all the time now. It was okay though, she liked that feeling, being so close to the water all the time. Though she didn’t like the warm part, because it was just balls hot. But oh well. She hated flying in and out of the place more, but her restless soul finally overcame the hatred of those fire wings.
She sets out with no purpose, as she usually does. Her feet carry her today, leading her wherever they may go. Part of her expected them to take her to the Falls or the Edge, but they go to neither. And Thea doesn’t take over leading, dragging her into some conversation. Her companion is content to hop around Syrena’s back as a tiny little poison dart frog, playing some game with the shadows that cross Syrena’s hide.
Somehow, her feet take her here. She stops a good bone-tail distance away from the altar and then some. Syrena is not a fighter, and she wants nothing to do with running away from some crazy monster. But she can’t help but watch from afar, taking very slow and very tentative steps forward. Part of her expects Kaida to be here, standing at the altar, waiting for Kaos. Though that is a ridiculous thought. Syrena probably just misses the girl (what a strange thing, for Syrena to miss someone).
Probably the girl has been here and gone a million times, finding answers that Syrena just sits and waits for. Their last conversation is still fresh in her mind, how easily Kaida would pledge herself to Kaos because he seems the better option. Because his power is something to be had. And this, she can understand, but Syrena does nothing anymore without fear. Because everyone lies. Everyone in this hellhole takes and takes and takes from her. She did not like the gods, but did she really trust Kaos?
After a moment, Thea hops down from her back. Yes, the little creature is deadly enough if she wanted to be, but currently, she’s also very capable of being smashed. Thankfully she’s bright enough to turn herself into a wolf before continuing forward in leaps and bounds, leaving Syrena in the dust. “Thea!” she yells, waiting for something to come kill both of them.
But maybe, maybe somehow he knows they mean no harm. That curiosity killed the cat and all that. But yea, curiosity killed the cat. Or the Hydra and the Siren, as the case may be. Thea comes to a halt at the base of the altar, staring at it, making Syrena come and examine it as well. Symbols she doesn’t understand, power she will never even dream of, but there’s something wonderful basking in it anyway. Like she could harness even a piece of that power just by proximity. Maybe if she touches the altar? But fear keeps her from reaching out, so instead, Thea does.
Isopia Does your imagination try to make you what you wanted to be?
Because I'm sorry I do what I did, but it came naturally
It had been a while since Isopia had seen Syrena. Had it been since their conversation about what the siren could do in the Hidden Falls? When she had just been promoted to Storyteller? Isopia couldn't help but feel the weight of what her Father had done settle between her shoulder blades once again, at the sight of one of her old herd members. Although no one had called her out as a failure, Isopia still felt as though she'd failed some crucial responsibility. Her Father had said that it was his fault that the Hidden Falls had to be disbanded, and yet she was at its head when he had made that choice. Surely some of the blame fell to her?
Babel and Hubris glided towards where the wolf was currently touching the altar. If they flew to the top of it, they would be too high up to see what was happening, so instead the bronze and gold merely circled around it. Hubris trilled a warm and happy greeting to the wolf, while Babel watched with silent black eyes.
Hello Syrena." Isopia called. She wasn't much for hellos, but she had been working on her social niceties, and found that most responded better if she offered some polite greeting rather than just simply staring at them.
Isopia turned her golden eyes towards the altar, marvelling at the symbols pulsing dimly in the black rock. "I wonder why Kaos created this." She mused, more to herself than to the siren, but Syrena had always been rather clever, and if she wanted to insert herself into Isopia's ponderings she was more than welcome to.
Right after she’d be promoted, Syrena sought out The Mountain for information on her job and the Falls. That was the last time they had talked together, had a private conversation. Syrena has seen Isopia since then, always in the forefront of whatever was happening in Helovia. Not that she would expect the other mare to have seen her. Syrena hangs back, just close enough to be involved but not close enough to be noticed, generally. Unlike today, where she’s standing by the altar, though that has everything to do with Thea and nothing to do with her. She’d be a mile away if it were up to her.
She didn’t blame Isopia for the loss of the Falls. They had all failed. They hadn’t tried hard enough, and their failure was shared. But in the end, she doesn’t blame any of them, really. But she did blame their Gods, the very horses who were supposed to protect them. They had failed. And this was not the first time they had failed, but maybe it would be the last. Not because she thought they would ever stop failing, but because maybe Kaos could win. Unlikely, but maybe.
Thea wags her tail as Hurbis trills in greeting, making something of a yipping sound, trying to be friendly and not wolf-like. Not that Thea would ever be very good at being wolf-like. The girl was too happy, too eager, too exuberant to ever really fit the deadly forms she took on. Though Syrena hasn’t missed the fact that Thea never seems to pick anything just for its cuteness factor. Sometimes her choices are cute, but they are almost always predators. Maybe she was making up for Syrena’s lack of well…everything.
The ‘Hello Syrena,’ is almost shocking. Somehow she simply didn’t expect that from The Mountain. But it has been some time since they’ve spoken, and everyone changes. Even Syrena, as best she can. “The Mountain That Knows,” she says, her voice deadpan like always, but she offers a nod of her head in greeting, which is a step in the right direction.
Syrena turns her attention back to the altar as Isopia does, keeping her ocean eyes on it, trying to understand. Understand what, she doesn’t know. Just simply understand. To be as certain as Kaida. “Perhaps it says,” she says, gesturing to the strange markings. “But it’s not a language I know. But perhaps it is simply a place for those that want to find him. The Gods can be found in the Veins, so Kaos has his own place. Though it could be many things, and I suspect serves many purposes. It is a symbol of power. It is a threat. It is a promise.”
She doesn’t know what it is. If she did, she wouldn’t be standing here staring at it. Perhaps Isopia had better ideas than she did.
Isopia Does your imagination try to make you what you wanted to be?
Because I'm sorry I do what I did, but it came naturally
Isopia's head bobs in agreement. The sirens characterization of what the altar might be for strikes the Mountain as exceptionally rational and likely quite correct. Her golden eyes scan over it for a moment, before turning back to the hybrid.
"That sounds right." Isopia affirmed.
The black-eyed Babel hovered around one of the symbols, extended a clawed hand, and began to scratch at the parts that glowed. For a moment Isopia considered telling him to stop, but decided against it. Who knows, maybe it would provoke a response and they could all see whether or not Syrena had been right.
"A promise.." Isopia suddenly repeated, turning back to her former herdmate. "You don't sound as against the thought of Kaos as others do. Most have happily jumped on the 'Kaos is evil' bandwagon." Isopia let her voice trail off instead of saying, but your tone seems to indicate otherwise, which is what she was thinking. But, she was unsure if she should say that part outloud, and so simply kept the thought to herself. Instead, she perked her ears forward, trying to indicate that she'd welcome hearing Syrena elaborate on this thought.
There’s no mystery as to why Wessex is here: she missed out on the last patrol and wants to make up for it. So the obvious solution is to head there herself, all alone, because she’s a big girl and can take care of herself. God, bone monster, and black altar be damned.
She is, perhaps, a little too eager to return to the site of the reveal, having left it alone since she’d hauled Tiamat’s ass out of there. To be honest, Wessex is rather unfamiliar with the way ‘Gods’ work: sure, she’s seen the Spark get his panties in a twist about the Basin disappointing him (how? It was their fault the newly appointed Lady went MIA?), but that was about it. Her homeland didn’t have deities or magic (it might still be standing if it had), and in her wanderings, she’s never stayed in one place long enough to develop an affinity for a ‘higher being.’ She’d met priests and priestesses, those who swore on their own version of the Most High, but they’d never been able to sway her opinion about the whole matter.
While her eyes must concede that Gods are real, her mind cannot take the proverbial leap and have such blind faith. Wessex needs evidence of things - cold, hard facts - or else she must fall back on single-minded self-reliance. No one is going to take care of her, so why should she bother expending energy in worship?
Spirited steps bring her to the western marshland, the dead lands ripe with rotting plant matter, but not the tell-tale sign of a body’s decay. The summer’s heat has dried up some of the water, but not much, and her legs are soon spattered with mud, her hooves carrying a thin layer of much. The black obelisk is easy to find, and the altar that sprang from bones and now stands silent (so she thinks). Two mares are there, inspecting it - both of whom are unfamiliar. Which isn’t saying much, as Wessex’s working knowledge of Helovians is rather limited. One is even taller than she, adorned in horns and wings and a skull mask. The other is smaller, but neither seem to be threatening. Nevertheless, she hails the pair with a deep voice and draws up on the opposite side of the stone. “Don’t mind me if I’m intruding on something. Just here to take a look at the big-ass rock.”
Defiant sacrilege just drips from her tongue, betraying her opinion on the matter without having to say anything at all.
She finds herself surprised and, oddly, pleased as Isopia tells her that her assessment sounds about right. Part of her just assumes they are forever bound to butt heads, but perhaps that wasn’t the case. Perhaps they just happened to start off on the wrong topic, or perhaps they had both changed just enough that conversation came easier. The new dragon, the one Syrena doesn’t know, begins to scratch at the blue markings and Syrena watches with some interest, her face not quite showing it, but her steady gaze an indicator. Like Isopia, she wonders if something will happen, though nothing does.
Then Isopia repeats her last bit, and Syrena again is surprised that she isn’t instantly condemned for that last bit of her speech. Like Kaida, she expects everyone else to simply denounce Kaos in a single breath. Like their new friend does. Before Syrena can reply, another voice breaks through their conversation, and it’s clear this mare does not see Kaos as Syrena does. Syrena simply nods at her, entirely uncertain what to say. “Feel free. It does not seem inclined to give up its secrets,” she says, trying to be polite, though her deadpan voice might fail her here.
Then she turns her attention back to Isopia. This new mare might have her opinion, but Syrena is less certain, and she doesn’t care if others know it or not. “I think that depends on one’s definition of evil.” After all, Syrena had once been a siren, had once killed to sustain herself. She had once been very different than the mare she is today, and her old self would have been considered evil by many. But she didn’t think so. She never killed for fun, never wasted, tried to take those that seemed unlikely to be missed. She was far from evil, but the sheer nature of what she was made most assume she was.
“Helovia’s God’s have taken everything from me. My powers, my home. They have given me very little in return.” They had given her only the ability to play with water plants, and Thea. At least there was Thea, who was currently busy bounding over toward the spiky mare that had joined them to investigate. Unlike any normal wolf, her tail is wagging, and she looks far more like a dog coming to greet a new friend. She would try to stop her companion, but Thea isn’t prone to listening. “She’s harmless,” she says toward Wessex, despite the fact Thea’s antics make this obvious. It makes Syrena a little nervous to watch Thea bounding up to a half-dinosaur.
She doesn’t say more, suspecting Isopia understands the point she’s trying to make. The Gods are not perfect. She can’t say Kaos is perfect either, but perhaps he is something worth following. She doesn’t trust him, but she doesn’t truth the Gods either. At least, perhaps, he could give her something worth having. Though that seems like a pipe dream.
The altar shifts ever so slightly. Not as if from an earth quake, but moreso as if there is something inside of it, that has turned over. The symbols begin to pulse a warm teal light that spills down around the assembled trio. A faint blueish-green mist rises up from the altar, bringing with it the sweet scent of petrichor and lilac. Black flowers, elegantly crafted and dainty, begin to luxuriously sprout from the ground. First rising up, and then spreading their onyx petals all around.
The world seems to hush with the invigorating scent, and the trio feels rejuvenated and strong.
Isopia Does your imagination try to make you what you wanted to be?
Because I'm sorry I do what I did, but it came naturally
Despite how bizarre Isopia herself looks, Wessex is something else all together. Blinking at the unicorn, the Seer was glad that Syrena had something to say in response. Her words rang true - whatever the altar was, it seemed to keep its secrets relatively close to its chest.
The demi-goddess nodded with what she hoped pass as understanding as Syrena related how little she thought of Helovia's gods. Being the daughter of one hadn't necessarily swayed Isopia to their way of thinking. If anything, it made her even more skeptical of them, for she was all too aware of their limitations. "I think they are just like us, with more power. Their lives may be longer and their wisdom more experienced, but if I am any evidence of their greatness, given that I exist somewhere between them and everyone else, then clearly they aren't so great, for I am not so very different from anyone else." Her slender shoulders shrugged.
But before Isopia could say more the air suddenly changed. It became coloured and scented, and although Isopia didn't baulk or pull away, her ears perked forward and her golden eyes widened as she turned towards the altar. As black flowers spread across the ground, Isopia lowered her head to investigate them a bit more carefully. They appeared normal, other than their colour, which was perhaps the most strange. Isopia had expected something more supernatural, and yet ... this was just food colouring, at best.
"That was perhaps a bit anti-climactic." Isopia concluded after a moment. "Has it done that before, that you've seen?"
No indeed, it does not. How many have come before them and are none the wiser for all their staring, poking, prodding, and debating? Better minds than hers, surely. Nevertheless, she does her due diligence with the rock: coming closer and walking in circles around it. All the while, listening to the conversation the mares are having without having much to say herself - until the wolf companion comes bounding over to her, exuberant and playful. She chuckles, offering the wolf a canine-like bow she’s seen the wolf pack do whilst playing. “Just mind the tail - it’s prickly,” Wessex offers as a word of caution - wouldn’t want the mare to get mad at her because of an accident.
But her attention is genuinely torn between playing and having a serious conversation about this Kaos fellow, having noted with interest that these two ladies have quite specific view on religion and Gods. “Couldn’t help but overhear - I’m Wessex, by the way - your conversation. I’ve lived a couple of places and everyone thinks their own Gods are good, right? What if it’s just in the clash against other powers that they’re considered ‘evil?’” There’s a reason Wessex doesn’t have a real affinity for any of the Helovian Gods yet (not just because she’s fairly new, but because she’s seen a lot of deities). She also knows that like a good soldier, she will follow where her leader commands. Much of the Basin seems solidly on the anti-Kaos side.
But then the altar does a strange thing, shifting and expelling mist, while flowers bloom in immediate vicinity. Wessex twitches at the first sign, but otherwise stands her ground. “Ah, no. Never seen that before.” Literally, never - nothing like it. She steps closer to the duo, shamelessly invading the team and muses dryly aloud, “So is it a sign of favor, or a weak show of power...?”
Wessex, at least, feels like she could take on Ampere again. Which would be foolish, but that’s how fresh and rejuvenated her body feels.
There is part of her that is surprised by Isopia’s response. The God of the Earth is her father, and there’s something to be said for that. Syrena never knew her father, never cared to, but her mother had meant something to her. But then again, did Syrena really think her mother was all that great? No. Raidne was a powerful mix of kelpie and siren, yes, but that did not make her great. So perhaps it makes sense, because The Mountain and Syrena are not so different. Still though, Syrena’s mother was not a God.
She is strangely relieved to find that her former Queen doesn’t judge her answer though, almost seems to understand it instead. Syrena nods in understanding as Isopia speaks, but the strange spiked mare is talking now. Thea is pleased with the attention she’s gotten, and she stops quite literally nosing around for attention to let the three equines speak. Equines might be a stretch for the strange trio of mares; the Siren, The Mountain, and the Dinosaur. “Evil is only a matter of definition, yes,” her way of agreeing with the point the gray spiky mare is making. “Syrena, and that is Thea.”
As if on cue, she lets out a low growl. Though she’s not growling at her name, but the way the altar seems to shift, the markings now glowing. But her show of being tough is short lived, and as the mist creeps up around them, Thea yelps and runs to cower beneath Syrena. She is almost too large to fit, and Syrena is forced to shift her legs around the ridiculous wolf cowering beneath her.
But then, nothing happens. Thea sneaks out from beneath her bonded, emboldened again by the lack of anything really terrifying, and perhaps by the sense of rejuvenation that floods Syrena and their bond. Thea sniffs at the flowers now, curious. “I haven’t seen that either,” she says, eyes on the strange black flowers. “It seems like a gesture of goodwill. Do you both feel as rejuvenated as I do?”
Isopia Does your imagination try to make you what you wanted to be?
Because I'm sorry I do what I did, but it came naturally
Isopia shakes her head in response to the many-horned unicorn's comment. "I've seen what Kaos can do-" Briefly she glanced to Syrena, as if to confirm that the siren had as well. "That was no weak display of power ... the question is whether or not it was intentional, or whether we merely triggered some magical response.."
Large and curious golden eyes scanned the area where they all were, wondering if one of the companions had inadvertently flicked some switch. Perhaps it was how they were standing that the altar was responding to? Nothing seemed overly obvious to the Mountain, but she supposed that was likely the point.
"I do, actually. I feel ... as if I've slept and eaten, but I do not feel groggy or overly full." Isopia's golden eyes moved to Wessex, wondering if the mare would confirm that she too felt rejuvenated somehow.
She nods along with Isopia’s assertion that she’s seen what Kaos can do. “So have I. Or I assume it was him. He reanimated a bear one of our patrols took down in the Steppe. It was covered in ice, and very much dead a couple of minutes before." It was disconcerting to think that the thing might still be running around the hills surrounding the Basin even now, but she supposes there’s a good chance that with the ‘threat’ of the Patrol gone, it may have… died again. Zombie bears are no good. The two sides of Kaos make her feel very confused about the guy. Girl. Thing? Eh, we’ll go with guy. Why threaten them when they were simply protecting their own? Only to make her feel… better? Now.
Wessex takes another circle around the obelisk, the symbols no more than lines and squares and dots to her untrained eye. “Maybe… I do feel very strong. Like i’ve woken up from a restful sleep.” she muses, taking note of the other two mares’ positions, and then where she thought she’d been when the air changed. “It seems pretty specific to be position related, so… maybe it’s individual related?” Her head tilts to one side when she looks back at the skull-marked woman who has yet to give her name, and Syrena. Utter strangers who know each other… could it be that the altar is reacting to them, and not her? “Do we have something in common? I’m from the Basin, and somewhat new to Helovia, so I’m afraid I’m in the dark about a lot of things still.”
Her tail swings back and forth a little more animatedly, curiosity and a mild sort of agitation running through her. The mystery continues, and it feels like they are no closer than they are before. That is what's so frustrating.
05-26-2017, 05:36 PM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2017, 05:37 PM by Syrena.)
i want to be wild, beautiful and free
Syrena knows what Isopia means when she says that she has seen what Kaos can do. Syrena had been there too that day, standing on the sidelines with no plan to fight, and no reason to do so. She wasn’t sure that Kaos was the enemy here. Just because they were used to the status quo as it had been laid out for them did not make that the right way of things. Kaos was powerful when he should not be. The magical barrier should have taken his powers from him, but perhaps coming through the Rift didn’t strip him of magic as the Threshold did.
The siren offers Isopia a nod when the mare glances her way, agreeing she had been there for the monster as well. Wessex talks of a bear that came back, and she simply says, “He has done that on a larger scale as well,” thinking of the size of the monster, of all the bones they had collected. He had lied, but she surprised really. Dismayed and disappointed that he isn’t of the sea as he had pretended, but still, not necessarily upset at the lie for any other reason. He still didn’t seem to be much different than their Gods.
Both mares confirm that they too feel better, like they had slept and eaten, like they were stronger and better than they had been a moment before. Wessex asks if they share something in common, and Syrena almost laughs at the question. If she were the type to laugh, certainly she would have. Looking at them, it’s hard not to notice how dissimilar they are all on the outside, a Mountain, a siren, and a dinosaur. Syrena doubted the outside mattered much.
“Perhaps because we are not overtly against him, but more undecided?” She gives the last word enough inflection to be a question, not entirely sure if that’s true of her companions, but having gotten the sense it might be. “It could be his way of reaching out.” A bear for a patrol that likely stood against Kaos, as most of the horses in Helovia seemed to. Rejuvenation and life for those that might be swayed to his side.